


The Beginning of an Era

by Solemnly_Swear (Fitzsimmonsx)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, First Meeting, Happy ending (ish?), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-29 01:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18297299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fitzsimmonsx/pseuds/Solemnly_Swear
Summary: Arthur meets Merlin before Merlin reaches the castle.(aka Arthur finds out Merlin has magic from the beginning, and this is the confrontation that starts it all) (one-shot)





	The Beginning of an Era

It’s been a bad week for Merlin. The journey to Camelot, presumably only a couple days, had managed to stretch into a full five days. Half of Merlin’s belongings had been stolen at an inn he had stayed at. Even the weather won’t cooperate- the sun is swelteringly hot, and there is not a cloud to be seen.

Merlin at last nears his destination, seeing the castle on the horizon, when a shoulder slams into him and his luggage is jolted out of his hands.

“Sorry,” says a voice. It is the man who has bumped him- he has heavy-looking armor on, and he is with a group of friends in similar getup. Merlin is prepared to brush it off when the man lets out an amused laugh and turns back to his friends.

“What are you doing?” Merlin says, voice ringing out over the sounds of the street.

The man turns around slowly. The amusement fades out of his expression, and there remains only contempt, and a glint in his eyes, as if he’s looking for a fight.

“Excuse me?”

“Aren’t you going to help me pick up my stuff?” Merlin says, glaring. He’s encountered plenty of men like this before, but they never fail to piss him off.

“I didn’t realize you weren’t capable of doing it yourself,” the man replies. He grins, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Arthur,” one of his friends says urgently, grabbing hold of his arm. “Your Majesty. Just leave it.”

Merlin recognizes the name, the title, and groans. He can’t afford to draw the attention of Camelot’s crown prince. And yet that is exactly what he has managed to do, after a mere hour or so in Camelot.

Arthur takes a breath and turns away from Merlin, and Merlin sighs in relief.

This is a mistake, of course- as one crisis is averted, another makes its appearance. Merlin’s eyes widen as a band of horses come cantering down the street, straight towards the belongings that Arthur has knocked out of his hands. They are the only belongings he has left. Merlin can’t afford to lose them, not after he’s already lost half of them and he’s just nearly reached his destination. He’s not even certain he won’t be turned away- he trusts his mother, but this is a stranger he has never met before.

Merlin glances around- past Arthur’s turned back and those of his comrades; past the distracted old man across the street; past the shop across from him, where a woman is being fitted for a gown.

“Strangaþ bydenfæt,” Merlin mutters, bracing himself as the magic pushes his luggage out of harm’s way.

There is a moment of relief, a still silence, and then a scream.

“Magic!” cries a horse’s rider. “The boy, here!”

Merlin groans, looks up into the face of the man, and then grabs his luggage and runs.

It isn’t a fair chase- Merlin hears pounding footsteps behind him, getting closer, but his luggage is weighing him down and it doesn’t seem worth using magic. At worst, his pursuer will try to hold him there and Merlin will have to knock him out.

Merlin ducks into an alleyway and freezes as his pursuer catches up and they come face to face.

It’s Arthur. The harsh, amused condescension from earlier is nowhere to be seen on his face- one of his hands shoves Merlin roughly against the wall. Merlin’s ears are filled with the singing of metal as Arthur’s other hand pulls his sword from a sheath and presses it against Merlin’s neck.

“Sorcerer,” Arthur hisses, as if it is the worse curse he can think of.

Merlin is silent in shock. He is faced with they very real possibility that he will be killed, right here, by the prince of Camelot himself.

“You deserve to be killed,” Arthur says, rage clear on his face.

Merlin shores up his confidence and opens his mouth. He may be doomed, but he won’t give up without a fight. He has heard of Camelot, of the horrible executions. Of the fear and hatred that is spread by the royal family. Merlin might face death here, but others have already died, some with less cause even than Merlin.

“Just kill me, then,” Merlin says through gritted teeth and gasping breaths. “Kill me, like you’ve killed all the others.”

Arthur hesitates, his hand loosening on the sword, and Merlin presses his advantage. “All of them, executed. Women and men alike, fathers and mothers-“

This is where he goes wrong. He’s not sure why at first, but the fury burns up again, fiercely bright in Arthur’s eyes. “They were all _sorcerers_ ,” he says. “Their magic is a plague, and it is my duty to-“

“Duty? Is that what the word duty means to you? Killing innocent people?”

“They aren’t innocent! They have magic-“

“So what? Because you don’t understand it, because you don’t have it, it’s a crime?”

“No, it’s-“

“Is protecting your family treason? Is healing someone-“

“ _Magic_ ,” Arthur growls, pressing the cold metal of his sword harder against the flesh of Merlin’s neck. “Magic _killed_ my mother.”

They’re both breathing heavily, Merlin’s chin lifted defiantly as a drop of blood runs down his neck. Arthur’s face is pale, his hand shaking on the hilt of the sword, as if he didn’t mean to divulge as much as he had. Merlin takes a breath and looks Arthur in the eyes, figuring this is his only chance.

“I’m sorry,” Merlin says hoarsely. “I’m sorry for your loss. But this isn’t- this isn’t fair.” He says. “Magic itself isn’t evil. There are evil sorcerers and there are good ones, just like men.” Another drop of blood makes its way down Merlin’s throat- Merlin takes an involuntary gasp of air and adds “Magic is just a tool, like a sword.”

Arthur’s gaze darts to the sword, to the contrast of the scarlet blood against Merlin’s skin, and his eyes grow wide. Merlin simply waits, heart beating rapidly in his chest.

There’s a pause, painfully long, and then-

“You’re right,” Arthur says, voice hoarse. He pulls his sword away, lets it clatter to the ground. and Merlin‘s head falls back against the wall as a wave of pure relief hits him.

“I’m sor- I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Arthur says.

It’s a blatant lie, and they both know it. There had been murder in his eyes, before. Now, the same emotion flashes through Merlin, remembering. This is his opportunity. There is no immediate danger to Merlin anymore, and Arthur is right in front of him, weapon discarded. A few words and it’ll all be over.

But Arthur is running a hand over his face, breathing shaky, and Merlin knows in his heart that he can’t do it. Arthur does not embody the hatred he feels, just as Merlin is not his magic.

Merlin shudders slightly and slides down the wall until he lands with a thump on the ground. Next to him, Arthur does the same. They sit there in the fading light of the alley, side by side, until Merlin’s breathing slows and he shakily pulls himself to his feet.

Arthur is still sitting, vacantly staring straight ahead, and Merlin debates leaving him. Arthur is a prick, he thinks. Arthur is arrogant. Arthur almost murdered him and couldn’t bring himself to properly apologize. Most importantly- Arthur is the prince of Camelot, and his word can bring Merlin’s life down around his ears.

He turns on his heel, makes it a couple paces, and then turns back. Arthur has just lost part of himself. Everything he has known and believed about the world has been flipped upside down. Merlin has experienced it once before, is painfully aware of how horrible it is, and can’t bear to let someone else go through such a thing alone. So he makes his way back to Arthur and clears his throat.

Arthur looks up, eyes empty of emotion, and Merlin simply holds out his hand.

Arthur’s eyes stay on Merlin for a moment, and Merlin starts to pull his hand away, but then a heavy, solid weight anchors it.

Merlin stares at where Arthur’s hand is wrapped around his, until he hears an exhausted laugh.

“Are you going to pull me up or what?” Arthur says. His tone is condescending, as if he half believes Merlin doesn’t know how to.

Merlin pulls him up with all his strength, and then pulls his hand out of Arthur’s grasp, ready to walk away. But Arthur is facing him, closer than Merlin had realized, and both are still.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur says simply. And then, “What’s your name?”

And that’s it. Merlin doesn’t like Arthur- far from it, really. But Merlin has been where Arthur is, and he is willing to help.

So he replies. “Merlin,” he says.

Arthur nods. “Nice to meet you, Merlin. My name is Arthur.”


End file.
